


Christmas Crackers

by divagonzo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mentions of JSP exploits, Over the age of consent in the UK, but underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagonzo/pseuds/divagonzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spontaneous moment brings great tidings for the Potter family, along with a few bludgers along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot. Complete. Follow-up with _Dance with Somebody_. Originally written for the 2015 Smutty Claus fest on LJ. My thanks to A for the lovely (and rather intensive) edit and beta, along with the britpicking of UK shoe sizes. **Rated M/NC-17** for first and last sections of the story.

* * *

Ginny sat up in the bed, breathing frantically into the cool evening air. Those brown eyes from her childhood still haunted her at the worst opportune times, like this morning. She reached a hand out and felt piping hot skin under her fingertips, rising and falling in a slow cadence of peaceful sleep. 

Harry slept well, now that he was working as a Director in the department. Rarely was he haunted from the cases of his past, or present, to interfere with his sleep. Rarely was he awoken by a nightmare, garden variety or a slitty red eyed fiend variety. 

Ginny reached further down his back and felt the curve of his arse along with the hair under her fingertips. Impulsively and without a moment’s shame, she squeezed his arse and felt the muscles twitch and contract. 

“I’m being a twit. I don’t need Harry to shag me to make it better. Riddle’s been dead for decades.” 

Ginny let him go, earning a snore in reply before rolling out of the bed and quietly padding to their en suite. She closed the door behind her so she wouldn’t wake him up too early. A quick flick of her wand at the tray of scented candles bloomed to illuminated life, giving warmth in their small bathroom. Lavender mixed with vanilla to make a pleasing scent, one that was comforting from the stresses of the day, either from children or making deadlines for her Quidditch articles. 

Ginny looked at herself in the mirror and considered the ramifications of being 40 with three kids off at Hogwarts. Considering what they went through, her and her spouse, who was still her lover, partner, and best friend, it was quite enjoyable. Her hair still enraptured her husband. No matter what, from spooning in bed to their routine morning hug before he tucked into his eggs and toast with a cuppa, he had to hug her and take a languorous sniff of her hair. 

At least if she didn’t contemplate the number of hidden grey hairs on her shagged out scalp and elsewhere on her 40 year old body. There were handfuls of other vain complaints, from the scars of 20 years ago, or the wrinkles on her face, arms, and stomach. The scars from her childhood and her youth mostly faded into her fourth decade of life, only noticeable under her intense scrutiny. 

Ginny ran her hands over her body, watching it jiggle under the harsh light. The hips had spread, given her pregnancies years gone past. The breasts sagged, but not as bad as some of her friends talked about. They weren’t as pert as she was at 18, but they weren’t down to her knees either, unlike Mum had at the roughly same age. But her time spent keeping fit while the children were off at school benefited her tremendously. She could still run a stairs lap at Holyhead under eight minutes and could run a kilometer on the pitch in under seven. 

Forty didn’t mean that she was a haggard hippogriff ready to retire to greener pastures. 

Writing it off as a bad job at half five in the morning, she reached for the taps on their tub, drawing a hot bath to wash away the remnants of the nightmare still bouncing around in her head like a rogue bludger. The hot water and scent from the candles would help dispel the nightmares of almost 30 years past, shoved deep into a cavern in her mind and locked away by the fury a raging 11 year old mustered in righteous anger. 

Ginny reached for the bath beads that Luna introduced her to, taking another glorious sniff at the pleasant odors that wafted from the box. More lavender, vanilla, jasmine, and another slightly pungent scent boiled over the moment the beads melted in the hot water, leaving bubbles growing to the top of the clawfoot tub. 

Ginny stepped in and turned off the taps. Water dripped for a second before ceasing, releasing steam into their older bathroom. With a tap of her wand, the water heated further, almost to skin scalding temperatures. But she needed it sometimes. Some mornings, especially after energetic lovemaking the night before, her body ached from Quidditch, war injuries, more Quidditch, and children. 

She slid in, basking in the piping hot warmth she rarely had growing up. Being a mum to three of her own, and looking after a fourth, occasionally, taught her again the importance of hot water and time for a bath. 

The warmth soothed aching hips that Harry pounded into their mattress last night after the Ministry Halloween party. Libations flowed and they partook of the festivities. Ginny drank one Firewhiskey, quickly followed by a second while talking Quidditch gossip with Ron, Angelina, and George while Harry kept to elf-made wine and was cornered into a passionate discussion with Percy and Hermione in another corner over some ongoing case. 

Finally, out on the dance floor, Mum and Dad danced the night away without a care in the world. It was quite lovely to see them still crackers over one another, going on fifty plus years of marriage.

Eventually, she dragged Harry out onto the floor for two songs, dancing to make the parents and the younger ministry employees’ blush until they made a very hasty exit from the festivities. 

The moment they arrived home turned passionate. It was softer words, loving kisses, plenty of intimacy and less rough actions. It meant minutes of foreplay, using hands and lips and taking more than thirty seconds to go from clothed to shagging like hippogriffs in heat.

Forty meant fucking lasted more than four minutes. 

She settled into the tub, sinking deeper, leaving her face out of the water but immersing the rest of her. The tub was a special purchase, when they renovated their bathroom after Albus was born. She insisted on a larger tub, where she could relax from time to time. Too bad it was mostly used the first few years bathing the boys at the same time. 

_Knock Knock._

Ginny sat up immediately, spitting out soapy water that flew up her nose. Harry stuck his head into the loo and saw her sputtering. 

“Fall asleep in here?” 

“I just closed my eyes but I guess I did. What time is it?” 

“Half six.” 

“Bugger.” Ginny stood up and let the water dribble down her curvy body. She reached into the tub to pull the stopper, feeling the water rushing past her tattooed ankles and green painted toes. 

Harry leaned into the vanity behind him, rubbing the morning stiffy jutting out from his lithe body. 

“Again? I thought shagging me ‘til my hips popped last night would have worn your cock out.” 

“Does this look worn out?” He grabbed the shaft and waggled it at Ginny. 

She giggled then caught herself. “Still gagging for me, Mr. Potter?” 

Harry stepped into the tub and turned on the taps and turned the knob for the spigot to the shower. Steaming hot water drenched his body instantly, leaving his bright green myopic eyes and sleep-tousled hair untouched. 

“I look at you and I think I’m 18 with an insatiable appetite and no stamina.” His strong hands landed on her hips, pulling her close onto his very hot body. He leaned over but she kissed him first, relishing the strength in his hands and the hot throbbing length twitching at her stomach. “I need a shower but I want to shag you before I go into the office.” 

“What’s gotten into you, Harry? We’ve not had sex within twelve hours since the kids were little.” 

“Gotten into me? I slept.” Harry blinked and looked bedraggled since he left his glasses on the vanity. “If I might remind you, I’m still mad over you. Completely mental. Utterly crackers. For you, my wife.” 

She sighed, somewhat dramatically. “Harry, I know you’re as blind as an elderly dragon, but let me tell you this: I’ve got wrinkles on my neck, stretch marks on my hips where I can’t shed this last fifteen pounds no matter how hard I try, hair on my arse, liver spots on my hands, and this morning, I saw grey hair on my fanny. 

“But then I see you standing here, in all your naked glory, and wonder how the hell that you’re still completely barmy for me.” 

“I learned from your parents.” Harry’s hands roamed over her steam kissed body, relishing that the gooseflesh was breaking out where his calloused fingertips touched. He used one finger to lift her chin higher, ducking under it to kiss both sides of her neck, working up to her earlobes before nibbling gently on them. “I look at you and see so much more than just wrinkles. I see a head that witnessed horrors that would break others yet you stood up to it. I see a neck that was proud yet determined, refusing to yield while standing steadfast in protecting children. I see a back that refused to break under such hardships and tyranny. 

“And your hips,” his hands dropped down to the curve of her hips, enjoying the flesh under his fingertips, “these hips held our children for nine months, then carried them for even longer. As for the extra pounds that won’t go away,” he rubbed his still patient cock over her belly, “the better for cushioning when I make love to you in the morning over the side of our tub.” 

“You really want another leg over before you go into the office?” 

“I do. I don’t care if you have hair I can’t see on your arse or grey hair on your fanny. What I do care about is that I love you so much that I want to make love to you again.” 

Ginny lifted her left leg and rubbed it up and down his hip, letting his hands drift down to her quim where the mythical grey hairs were. “You know, we can even skip the round of _catch the snitch_ this morning since you have to be into work shortly.” 

“Don’t have to work hard for it this morning.” He turned her around and dropped to his knees in the charmed hot water. “It’s here, on your hairy freckled arse.” He kissed her right cheek, followed by the left. 

Ginny dropped to her knees in the tub and found her favorite spot, in the corner where she could rest her elbows easily while keeping her arse in the air - almost like flying on her broom, but much more energetic. 

“No foreplay?” 

“Do I feel like I need foreplay?” 

He reached her swollen slit and found her already sodden, even without his loving caresses. “Blimey, you are.” He ran the head of his cock over her slit, stroking a few times to get even harder. 

“I rather have a quick leg over. I have to be in Ballycastle at 10am for the media session. I’ll probably be there ‘til 4pm then home where I can make you dinner.” 

He slid into his wife and held still. Every time he made love to his wife felt like he was coming home. Only she made his cock twitch, not that other witches and a few wizards didn’t try to entice him. Only his wife of almost 20 years continued to fascinate and intrigue him. She was the only one who could stand toe to toe with him, whether he was in a fit of temper and needing to fight tooth and nail, or cuddle him when the anger that swirled in his soul burned down to embers again. Only she could comfort him when the ghosts of his past haunted his nightmares. 

No one else could compare, not to his lovely wife. She’d captured his heart and soul by being herself. 

“Get lost back there, Potter? Need a map, or set of instructions?” 

Harry thrust hard into his wife, burying himself bollocks deep. “I know your body better than you do.” 

She moaned in delight. “Fair point. Don’t stop on my account. You can keep going, love.” 

He thrust again, setting a comfortable pace yet hard enough to leave the tops of her hips slightly bruised. “Oh I will. Day I stop shagging you is the day you put me out to pasture,” he kept going before moving a hand around her thighs. “Doesn’t matter how I make love to you, it’s always wonderful: in the tub, the bed, or over the back of the couch.” 

“Well, maybe that time we were interrupted - “

“Hush you. This is my reminiscing. As I was saying,” He laughed and caught a mouthful of hot shower water, making him cough out hot shower water. 

Ginny smiled. “Haven’t I ever told you to watch where you’re laughing?” 

He spit water again before pulling her hard onto his hips, feeling every curve and muscle under her skin contract. “Not done with you yet, am I?” He snaked his hand through her trimmed bush to her very bereft clit and rubbed hard. “And you told me you love it when I laugh into your quim.” 

“‘Bout time you got around to that,” She growled. Her hips swirled on his cock and she fluttered some, all without him breaking his grinding of his thumb into her clit. “Now hurry up so we can get breakfast. I’m starving.” 

“Damn Weasley appetites.” Harry moved her hips wider, nestling in deeper but also where he could stroke her bundle of nerves on every downstroke. “But you’re coming first.” 

“But you’re coming with me,” she begged. Her thighs tensed and her arse quivered, so he ground into her, letting his pubic bone do the work of his hands. They strayed to her breasts, twisting and tweaking the nipples to drive her even wilder. Ginny reached for her clit and put her hand over his, rubbing harder than Harry usually did. 

“How many you want this morning, Mrs. Potter?” 

She mashed his hand into her clit and squeezed his cock before moaning and drenching him in her juices. He kept going, riding her orgasm like she’d taught him years ago. She squealed harder when he kept his fingers pressed into her sensitive flesh, squeezing her clit a second time. 

“Two in a row? Talk about a good morning,” Harry muttered. “Want a third?” He said into the skin of her back. 

“Easily, Harry,” Ginny panted and felt him getting tense under her. She rubbed and he moved his hands from her hips and fanny to her breasts, squeezing them while kissing steam from her back and felt her clamp down hard on him again. 

“Shite,” He growled and pulled her hard onto his cock, feeling the band grow painfully tight. 

“Come for me, Harry. One more,” She begged. 

“Ginny,” He moaned and felt the band in his bollocks snap, blowing spunk all inside his wife. Harry held still, still sheathed inside his wife, while he tried to remember how to breathe again. 

“You alive back there, Potter?” 

“No.” 

“Smug bastard. I want breakfast and you need to tidy before going into the office.” 

“And you sound like your Mum with eight other kids in the house and one shower,” Harry cheeked while pulling out of his wife, watching his cock slowly wither away from impressive to non-existent. “I’ve not been late for work in months.” 

“It’s because the kids haven’t pranked the Floo powder on the fireplace since they went off to school, you git.” Ginny stood up from the tub and rubbed her knees. “Blimey, can we put some cushioning charms on the tub so that doesn’t hurt so much?” 

Harry reached for the soap in the dish, slapping his wife on the bum. “Sure we can. Are you planning on us shagging more in here? It’d make sense for safety and comfort if you need it.” 

Ginny stepped out of the tub and looked her husband once again. “No matter what, you’ll always be older than I am.” 

“And you’re the one who said ‘ _Marry me_ ’!” 

Ginny laughed while she toweled off. “Your eyes are still spectacular, even if they don’t work worth a damn.” 

“Who needs working eyes when I have a working wand and calloused fingers? Didn’t you tell me that the first year we were shagging?” 

“Prat,” She laughed before tossing the towel into the shower curtain, hitting him in the midsection. “Tea and breakfast will be ready when you come down.” 

* * *

Ginny sat at the small table in their breakfast room, tapping her fingers on the tabletop. Harry was late coming home from work and she was growing impatient. He’d been stuck on a case the last couple of weeks, working late and going into the office early. He’d been diligent about sending owls home to her, informing her of what was going on but he only came home for changes of clothes and occasionally sleeping. 

Life was spinning fast again but this time she wasn’t on a broom to catch her. 

Throw in that it was their anniversary next week and she was hard up to not tell him, even if he was half asleep at 2am. At least Quidditch was going on break for a couple of weeks in the English League. Then again, her editor might send her to Cairo for the Mediterranean matches, held every Christmas in Egypt. 

“Mrs. Potter? I’m home!” 

Harry stepped into their kitchen, covered in ash and sporting even more grey hair at his temples. His robes were well cut, suited for his thin yet powerful frame, even now. “Dinner smells fantastic. Is that chicken stew?” 

Ginny stood up from her chair, trying to hide the small smile on her face. “It is. You eat entirely too much takeaway while you’re on a case. It can’t be all that healthy for you.” 

“I’m a Director. It’s not like I can pop home for Lunch with you, can I? You remember how many hours a day Robards was in his office, coordinating so many people when a case was wide open.” Harry put aside his satchel and over-cloak and found the steaming pot of tea. He poured a cup and added a small spoon of sugar. 

“I do send lunch with you. Is it not enough?” 

“It is when I’m only at the office for nine hours and have time to take a break. When I’m there eighteen hours it’s not enough.” 

Ginny handed the bowl to him, along with a couple of slices of homemade wholemeal bread. “Go on and tuck in. I know you’re knackered.” 

“Aren’t you eating?” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

Harry shoved the spoon into his mouth and moaned in delight. “It’s so good. Here, have a bite!” He lifted his spoon to her, intending to share. 

Ginny turned a fine shade of green before bolting from the room, slamming a door on the small loo off the front hallway. Disgusting sounds drifted out, giving Harry pause. He put down his spoon and bowl and went to tend his wife. She was kneeling on the ground, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, while her hair was disheveled over her face. 

“Love, did you catch a virus from someone at the office?” Harry ran the tap with cool water, handing a wet flannel to her where she could wipe her face and neck. “How long have you been sick?” 

Ginny looked up from the toilet, looking considerably pale, and tried to smile, feeling it coming across like a grimace. “It’s been about three weeks, actually.” 

“Three weeks? I’m taking you to St. Mungo’s tonight and having a word with the Healers. That’s rubbish! No virus lasts that long.” 

“It’s not virus, Harry, and St. Mungo’s knows. They’ve known for two weeks now.” 

“You’re not making a bit of sense tonight.” 

Ginny stood from the ground and went to the tap, collecting cold water to rinse her mouth out. Harry stood silently while she did her absolutions. She finished and saw him standing there, silent and waiting on her to speak up. 

Ginny looked through the mirror to see concern etched on his face. “Harry, when was the last time I was sick like this?” 

His face was blank, for what seemed minutes, until realization dawned on him. He broke into a smile, one that only she saw at his happiest moments. “Really? You really are? This isn’t a prank or a gag. You’re really pregnant.” 

“I wouldn’t lie about this, Harry. I might take the piss with George and Ron but not with you. It’s too important.” 

Harry picked her up and spun her around in the tiny bathroom, bumping her into the walls and vanity. 

“Put me down, Harry!” she squeaked when he bumped her arse into the vanity a third time. 

“Sorry, got carried away.” He did as she asked and sat down on the toilet cover. “How far along are you?” 

“The Healer said about 8 weeks. I’m guessing it was either the night of the Ministry party, on Halloween, or the morning after in the bathtub.” 

“Slow down a tic. That night, or the next morning? I thought you were taking a potion.” His face changed to outright confusion. “Or did I forget to do the charms?” 

“Both of us were pretty pissed at the party, with you thick as thieves with Percy and Hermione while I was talking with Ron and George. I only remember coming home and you fell on me like a troll, fucking me for all you're worth. You came then passed out but I woke a few hours later before we had that very rare shag in the shower.” 

Harry’s eyes went wider and brighter. “Dad, again, at 41. Bet this is how my Grandparents felt. Have you told anyone else yet?” 

“Nope. No one. It didn’t feel right to tell anyone else until you knew. So, Happy Early Anniversary, love. I’m supposedly due around your birthday, if I make it that far. So here’s your very early Birthday present, dear.” 

Harry put his hands on her stomach while trying to fight back tears. “You’re pregnant. We made a baby.” A few tears leaked out and he refused to wipe them from his face. 

“It’s not the first time.” Ginny lifted her husband’s face to hers, wiping them before kissing each cheek. “But it might be the last.” 

“I don’t care. It’s still special. We have another little Potter to think about.” 

“And the other three are going to be beastly about it.” 

Harry’s frown appeared. “You think?” 

Ginny walked out of their bathroom and back into the breakfast room. She pulled her wand and put a bubblehead charm over his stew. “Sorry but I can’t smell that, not without getting sick.” 

“How’d you make it then?” 

“Same thing while I was cooking it.” She shrugged. “Anyway, James is 18 and in his last year at Hogwarts. Al’s 16 and a Prefect. Lily is 13 and playing Quidditch already, earlier than I ever did. Do you think they are going to be excited that they have a baby sibling on the way, and us caring for another baby - and not listening to their drama on a weekly or nightly basis? I honestly think they are going to go spare.” 

“You should give them some credit. They won’t be too barmy about having a baby sibling to deal with.” Harry tore the pieces of bread into his stew before tucking back in. 

“And you’ve completely forgotten how Lily went mental this summer when Victorie had her baby at Easter? She wanted nothing to do with Victorie ‘til your birthday, once Astarte was born.” Ginny sat across from Harry while keeping her wand twirling, swirling the air away from her. 

“How about I tell Lily instead? She might be better if I told her instead of you.” 

“There’s going to be a screaming match either way, Harry. She’s not going to be the baby anymore and that’s going to upset her. I rather her get mad at me than you since she loves you more.” 

“That’s not true. She loves you as much as she does me.” Harry smirked. “Ok. So what about the other two? Think they are going to be barmy as well?” 

“Nah. James won’t mind. He’s got eyes for his girlfriend and taking a gap year abroad with Fred once he’s finished with Hogwarts. He’s not going to be all that shirty. Al? I dunno. He might be sweet about it or he could brood like you would.” 

“Mum and Dad?” 

“Oh, they’ll cry as usual. But I don’t want to ask them to babysit now, not more than an occasional day.” 

Harry took his bowl and spoon to the sink and set it to wash. “Ron? I’m sure he’d help.” Harry came back to the table. 

Ginny reached for his hands and held them still. “I’ll take a year off from writing and stay home this time. The Prophet can do without me a spell. But we have time to figure things out.” 

“Speaking of, when are our Hooligans coming home?” 

“They’ll be home next weekend, four days before Christmas and two days before our Anniversary. I have dinner planned for us.” She wiped her eyes again and tidied up the table. 

“This Christmas will be completely mental. How do we tell our kids that they are going to have a much younger baby sibling?” 

Ginny sat dumbstruck. “Did we bother to tell the others when I got pregnant?” 

“I’m sure we did. The only reason we told the kids first was that James kept stepping on your stomach and Al cried every time you were sick. We told Mum and Dad at Sunday brunch then everything went mental.” 

“Same thing then? Tell the kids first then the rest of the family?’’ The dishes finished washing and Ginny got up to dry them before putting them away. 

“That sounds fine. Who should the Godparents be this time?” Harry reached up to put away the platter on the top shelf. 

Ginny stepped into her husband’s arms and put her head on his chest. “We’ve got time to figure that one out. And there will be time, again, with everything going on.” 

“Sorted. First thing will be telling the kids.” 

“At home the first night over dinner?” 

“Sure. That’ll be the plan.” 

* * *

Harry opened the front door to their residence and three kids barreled in past him, shoving trunks into the front closet. James immediately turned to head back out the door. 

“James, where are you going?” 

“Sorry, Dad, but I’ve got a date tonight. Don’t worry! I’ll be back before tomorrow morning,” He yelled from the front steps and took off at a sprint up the street, sliding by his father’s outstretched arm. 

Ginny looked around the living room and saw no sign of Albus. “Al? Where are you?” 

“He left already.” 

Ginny and Harry turned towards Lily who was digging in her trunk. “He did?” 

“Yeah. When James escaped, Al Flooed over to Rose’s house. They were going to collect Scorpius then going to a concert in Diagon Alley. He said don’t wait up since Teddy is chaperoning them.” 

“But he’s not been home five minutes!” Ginny exclaimed. “I’d planned a sit-down dinner with the family since you lot have been off at school!” 

“Sorry Mum,” she shrugged. “I need to visit with Uncle George. I have to ask him about one of his products.” 

“Are you still pranking that irritating Ravenclaw that won’t leave you alone?” 

“Of course I am. I can’t let that sod - “

“Watch your mouth.” 

“Sorry, Mum, but I’m not letting that prat get the best of me. I need something epic so she’ll leave me alone.” 

“Go on then. Come home before 10.” Lily picked out a handful of Floo powder from the container on the mantle and disappeared into swirling flames, on her way to George and Angelina’s cottage and more mischief than her uncles ever got into. 

“So much for that bright idea,” Ginny whined. She made her way towards the kitchen. Harry followed her into the kitchen and threw a kettle on the stove. 

“At least we have some quiet time tonight.” Harry knelt down to the cabinet to pull out a bottle of wine they had in storage. “Oh, right, you can’t have any. So I better put this back.” 

“But it was supposed to be the night we told the kids.” Ginny sat down in her chair, finding a facial tissue to wipe her eyes with. “You’d think our kids would be obedient once, on such an important day.” 

“And they’ll just have to hear it with the rest of the family Wednesday at Percy’s place.” Harry sat down next to her and put her hand in his. “You’re not alone in this. I’m there with you.” He put his other hand on her stomach, even if it was entirely too soon for the child’s movement to be noticed. 

“So who is doing what?” 

“Oh, you know Mum. She’s running the kitchen and drafting all of us to help somehow, even if it’s Audrey’s house. She’ll set all of you setting the table and having us running food out and back…. you know how Christmas dinner is.” 

“And with our little fiends, it’ll take more than one to keep us from burning Percy’s house down.” 

“That’ll probably be Lily, once she gets the news.” Ginny sighed dramatically before running for the bathroom. 

* * *

“Weasley Family,” Harry yelled in the front foyer of Percy and Audrey’s expansive home. “Weasley family!” 

Ginny stepped into the residence with the kids in town, including a very petulant James. 

“This is pointless. I dunno why I have to be here.” 

“Al, Lily, please go in to speak with Gramma before we get busy enough in the kitchen.” 

The kids wandered off, leaving Ginny and James in the front foyer. “In there, now,” Ginny growled at her oldest son. He stalked off into the formal living room, surrounded by antique and heirloom furnishings left to Percy and Audrey by Muriel and Audrey’s grandmother Qiaohui. 

“What is wrong with you? You’ve been a prat to me and your father since you came home and I want to know what is going on?” 

“Just drop it, alright? I’m here and that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” He refused to look down the seven inches towards his mum’s face. “It’s not like you asked what I had planned.” 

“Don’t you sass me. Just because you’re of age now doesn’t mean that I will tolerate your shirty attitude.” 

“My shirty attitude? Since we left the train station Saturday you’ve been on my arse every single minute I’ve been awake.” 

“Rubbish, since you’ve barely been home since term ended.” Ginny stood defiant against her son. 

“So quit riding my arse trying to control my life.” He stormed out of the room and further into the house. 

Ginny made her way upstairs to the spare loo and closed the door. The moment the door latch clicked, she erupted in heaving sobs, leaving her a mess. Each one tore at her ribs and made her stomach ache with nausea, even if there was little to nothing in there since breakfast. James acting like a toerag and git, of all days, made the day so much worse. 

_Knock Knock_

“I’m in here. I’ll be out in minute.” 

Ginny pulled the wand tucked up her sleeve, trying to conceal the smudges of her eye shadow and wipe away the smudged make-up on her face. Hermione slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. 

“Bee in your bonnet, dear?” 

Ginny performed the concealing charms for her eyes, hiding the puffy darkness under them. “James is being a git and I’m emotional. I’m probably about to start and it’s making me a mess.” 

“Well, when you’re ready, come downstairs. Molly said she could use some help with the preparations.” 

“Of course she did. It’ll be a minute then I’ll be down. Just keep an eye on my children so they don’t burn down Percy’s house. Oh, and Hermione?” 

“Yes?”

“Cover that love bite on your neck, wouldya?”

Hermione grinned. “Will do,” Hermione replied before leaving the bathroom. 

Ginny finished the charms on her face and straightened her jumper. Harry would know she was upset. He could read her across the room. Hermione probably would but would keep quiet - at least until she admitted she’d lied to Hermione. 

_‘Maybe she’ll forgive this one, once she understands why. Bet a Galleon Luna knows before I announce it.’_ Ginny said to herself. 

Ginny opened the door and made her way downstairs in the cottage to the kitchen, which was considerably larger than Mum’s. Nine other Weasley women were in the kitchen helping prepare Christmas Dinner and getting under each other’s feet, much less having the room for their own tasks. 

“Ah, there you are. Can you make a bread pudding?” Molly pointed her wooden spoon across the room at her and Ginny picked up a bread knife for the stale loaf on the cutting board. “Oh, and Rolf requested a pan of bread and butter pudding, too.” Ginny went to work, fighting to keep the nausea she felt from overwhelming her in the hot confines of the kitchen. 

She finished quickly and escaped to the expansive parlour where the men had a Quidditch match on the Wireless and the older kids were sitting quietly on the other end of the room, looking at their new model Weasley Mirrors. Only Luna sat quiet with Astarte, Victorie’s daughter, with Lily sitting next to her, talking Luna’s ears off. 

“Harry, a moment?” 

He broke off his conversation with Ron and followed his wife into the front foyer, away from the distracted kids. “Alright there Ginny?” 

“No. James is being a git and I’m too hormonal to deal with his attitude.” 

“I’ll deal with him when we get home tonight. I don’t want to cause a scene with the whole family during Christmas dinner.” 

Ginny laid her head on her husband’s shoulder, feeling his strong arms encapsulate her. “It wasn’t this hard the last time,” She lamented into his jumper. 

Harry chuckled quietly. “Thank Merlin you have memory issues. It was harder. It’s only now that we have teenagers that they are giving us cheek. After he moves out you’ll wish he was home every night. He’ll be too busy for his parents then.” 

“You still want to do that, have him move out?” 

“He’ll want to of his own choosing. Do you think he’s going to want to live with us next year, out of school and hopefully in a career with a toddler in the house? He’d go barmy the first week.” 

“Hey you,” Bill stuck his head in. “Dinner’s on the table.” Bill left immediately at Fleur’s quiet yet insistent conversation with him. 

“I think I was more nervous telling Mum about our elopement than this.” 

“We’ll get through it.” Harry took her hand in his and they made their way to the formal dining room. “And maybe this time we’ll get through it with less shouting.” 

They entered the room and everyone else was seated, save Molly and Audrey who were bringing the last platters out from the kitchen. Dad sat at the head of the table, with Bill and Fleur on one side with Percy and an empty seat for Audrey next to him. Lucy and Molly were squeezed in next to their parents, with Teddy and Victorie, along with Dominique across the table. Louis was absent yet again, working with _Medicines Magique sans Frontiers_ , this time in Madagascar. Charlie and a friend, Sandu, were sitting on the other side, talking work and the adventures at the Dragon preserve. 

Across from Charlie was George and Angelina, with Fred and Roxy, each decked out in hideous Christmas jumpers that were the rage in Paris this year, discussing Fred’s employment options and Roxy’s interest in Parisian fashion for the spring. 

Harry took his seat, next to James who sat next to Fred so they could talk the entire meal, while Ginny had Al and Lily between them. They were across from Ron and Hermione, who had their kids along with a very quiet Scorpius Malfoy in the middle. Next to Hermione was Luna, sitting across from her twin sons who were talking animatedly with Hugo across the table. Luna had on her Weasley headphones, a new invention she was trying out based on the extendible ears Ron, George, and Fred developed so she could hear the entire table without missing out on the conversation with Rolf and Hermione on the end. Rolf sat quietly on the end, listening to his wife and Hermione discussing non-wizarding creature rights – and offering up his own suggestions occasionally. 

Ginny looked at Harry and he mouthed, ‘ _whenever_ ’ to her inquiry before picking up a platter of stewed carrots. More dishes were passed and Ginny took a small helping of a few things that might not upset her stomach. 

She glanced Luna’s way and saw her dearest friend smiling before turning back to her plate, breaking out into a loon quality grin. 

_‘Damn Luna knowing already_ ,’ Ginny thought. 

She cleared her throat loudly, garnering attention from the rest of the people present at Christmas dinner. “Harry and I have an announcement to make.” 

The entire table went silent, waiting on Ginny. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

There was a pregnant pause in the room. 

“I’m about ten weeks along, according to the Healers. We don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, or if there’s just one. We’re leaving it a surprise.” No one breathed a word. “If everything goes smoothly, the baby will be born probably around Harry’s birthday.” 

“Another Weasley baby. Wow.” George spoke up first. “Can you name the child Fleamont if it’s a boy?” Angelina cuffed him on the arm. “Ow. Congrats. What about Euphamia? Ow damn it! Stop!” as Angelia cuffed him again. 

Ginny looked up the table to her parents. Molly was wiping her eyes with the handkerchief from her apron, muttering about another precious grandbaby. Dad looked a little misty eyed, too. 

“You’re pregnant? Merlin’s manky socks!” James erupted next. “Oh that’s rubbish! You’re like, old. You’re not supposed to do those things. You’re supposed to sit and work out cross-word puzzles or play cribbage, not shag and make babies!” 

Ginny’s temper flared. “I’m not old, James. I can outrun your lazy arse any day.” 

“Apologize to your Mum, now,” Harry erupted. “You _will_ not disrespect her, when it’s a time to celebrate.” 

“Sod this,” James stood up from the table. 

“Sit down, now.” Arthur exploded at his grandson. James promptly dropped back into his chair. “Apologize to your parents, now, or there will be consequences.” His remaining hair seemed to stand on end but the fire in his eyes said otherwise. 

“Sorry,” he muttered into the tabletop. He barely glanced up at his grandfather before speaking louder, “I said it was sorry.” 

“I’ll deal with you when we get home,” Harry growled. “I dunno what’s gotten into you this Christmas hols, but I will end it tonight.” 

“Yes, sir.” James refused to look up from the table, even with Fred desperately trying to get his attention. 

“You’re really pregnant?” Al asked quietly. 

“Yes dear, I am.” Ginny said. 

“I won’t have to share my room, will I?” 

“No,” James replied bitterly. “They said once I’m done at Hogwarts, I’m out. I’ve known that since I was a kid. It’s the same for you, probably.” James pouted, his arms crossed looking like the petulant teenager he was. “Bloody family,” He grumped. 

“Your room is yours, Al. You won’t have to share with the new baby.” 

Lily pushed the chair back and left the room in a hurry. 

“Have you seen a healer?” Fleur asked. Ginny turned to her sister-in-law at the head of the table. 

“Who are you planning on using as a midwife?” Hermione asked. “I never could use one.” 

“So if the baby is due towards the end of July, how will you cope with travelling during the Spring Season for Quidditch?” Angelina asked. 

Luna stood up instead, walking around to hug Ginny. “You celebrate. I’ll talk with her.” Luna kissed Ginny on the forehead, whispering, “Lily probably will appreciate my attention right now, as someone who will listen to her.” She kissed her on the cheek before leaving the room, following Lily into the parlour. 

Ginny sighed, trying to keep all of the questions sorted so she could handle it all. Harry, on the other hand, was being handed a huge glass of Firewhiskey in celebration with the other men at the table. 

All except James, who was pouting over his glass of pumpkin juice. 

“That’s what you get for being a git at the dinner table,” Al cheeked. 

“You know you hate Firewhiskey,” Fred added. 

“Well, you were acting like a git so they’re treating you like a toddler.” Charlie tossed back his Firewhiskey before reaching for a second measure from the bottle. 

Molly cuffed Charlie on the back of the head. “And you’re next if you know what for.” 

“Yes, Mum.” 

* * *

The family pulled into the parking space behind their residence in London, with Harry turning off the engine on his Mercedes. James was stuck in the middle, with Al and Lily ignoring him, looking into their mirrors and talking with their friends. 

“We’re going to talk.” Harry opened his door first, followed by Ginny and the rest. “And you’re going to come completely clean on why you’re acting a world class prat this holiday.” Harry slammed his door first. Al and Lily looked at one another and shrugged. They were told earlier that they weren’t in trouble – not this time. 

Harry went in first, with the kids following, and Ginny last. They stepped into the warm kitchen, with the smell of stew and crusty bread baking in the oven. 

“Master Harry had returned,” the elderly Kreacher croaked at them. “Winky is upstairs preparing your bath, Mistress Ginny and Poppy is turning down the beds for the younger Potters.” 

The rest of the family went upstairs. 

“Thank you Kreacher. We’re going to have a _family_ talk in the parlour upstairs. It shouldn’t take long but would you keep any owls until we come back downstairs?” 

“Yes, sir. Very Good, Master Harry.” 

“Once everything is finished, you and the rest of the elves have the evening off. Everyone has earned their galleons today.” 

“Very good, sir. I will inform the others. They asked if they could return to Hogwarts for the evening, to celebrate.” 

“You don’t have to ask. You, along with Winky and Poppy, are free Elves.” 

“Kreacher hates being rude and presuming, sir.” 

“Enjoy the evening with the others. Throw back a butterbeer if you want.” 

Kreacher laughed, like a stepped on frog. 

Harry went upstairs to the parlour, where a fire was already burning in the fireplace. James stood at the fireplace, getting warm. Harry pointed his wand at the grate and locked it down. James sighed again. 

“Sit, now.” Harry pointed to the high backed chair by the fire – Aunt Hermione’s favorite seat – “And tell me why you‘ve acted like a toerag since you’ve been home.” 

Ginny took the other chair, away from James, while Harry had the recliner on the end of the couch. The other two kids stood in the doorway, ready for an escape if it turned into a barn burning row. 

“You’d not understand,” He grumped and looked into the fire. 

“Try us,” Ginny spoke up. 

“I’m dating a girl,” James started. 

“Oh, is that all?” Lily snorted. “Tell them all of it, James.” 

“If you won’t, I will.” Al stood resolute against the other doorjamb. 

“So? Speak up,” Harry asked brusquely. 

“Fine. It’s Pansy Parkinson’s daughter. She’s a sixth year Ravenclaw but she’s 17.” 

“And you’re being a git to your Mum because?” 

James muttered something that no one understood. 

“Speak up,” Harry snorted. “Because you stay insolent long enough, I’ll owl Pansy herself and get to the bottom of it.” 

“I’m going to speak with Pansy whether this toerag tells us or not.” Ginny took a step towards the fireplace before James threw his hands up. 

“Oh Merlin, don’t do that!” 

“Why not?” 

“Penelope hasn’t told her Mum we’re dating.” James buried his head in his hands. 

“And how long has this gone on?” Frost from Ginny’s voice coated the furniture. 

“Start of the year.” 

Harry sat forward in his chair. “So why have you upset your pregnant Mum and made a mess of Christmas this year for the family? What is so important that you are being a git towards everyone?” 

“I know,” Lily spoke up. 

“Damn Slytherin,” James snarled. 

Lily imitated her Mum in the doorway, with her arms crossed and her ire up. “You know it. Now tell them.” 

“Fine.” James turned to his parents. “We were supposed to go away while on Holiday from school. I rented a little place down on the Cornish coast. But because Mum _insisted_ ,” James whined, “I come to Christmas dinner with the family, she’ll think me a tosser for breaking it off without telling her.” 

“You are a tosser. What makes this girl so different?” Al asked first. 

James’ face turned six shades of red. 

“The Hufflepuffs were ready to beat your arse at the end of last year for you bedding the prefect then breaking up with her a fortnight later.” Al spoke up, earning dirty looks from James and their parents. “And then you were flirting with that Slytherin seventh year last year after you dumped the ‘Puff. Rumor has it that she sucked your bits too before leaving her without a note at the end of last term. Now you’re seeing Penelope. Why is Penelope Parkinson so special?” 

James turned faintly pink. 

“Might as well tell me now,” Harry cheeked at his son’s mortification, “because it’s not getting you out of whatever punishment your Mum hands out for humiliating her today.” 

“Have you ever seen Penelope Parkinson? She’s hot, like fiendfyre hot. She’s got these curves that will make a man get on his knees.” 

James scowled at Al’s snort. 

“And Imogene Turlington? What was she, sliced liver?” Al spoke up first. “You shagged her in your bed in Gryffindor tower then dumped her a fortnight later. There was a pool in the Hufflepuff common room for who was going to kick your arse for disrespecting her. They wouldn’t let me participate since I’m family.” 

“I never shagged her. She wanted me to, but I wouldn’t do it. That’s why we broke up shortly thereafter.” James looked at his Dad, begging him to not ask what they had gotten up to in his bed. 

“Any Sylvia Smythe? She sucked your bits in the Quidditch locker room and then you didn’t talk with her again. Explain that!” Lily was turning fairly red with her fists balled up. “That’s why you were in the Hospital wing two nights with a ten tonne tongue and boils on your arse. I gladly did that bit on you for her. She wanted you to come to actual harm.” 

“Kids, enough. Up to your room _now_ ,” Ginny barked at her two kids. “I don’t want you witnessing what happens to your brother.” 

The other two scampered up the stairs to their rooms. Ginny waited patiently for the particular doors to slam shut before she continued. 

“If you’re going to ground me, go ahead. I go back on the train in 10 days anyway.” 

Harry looked at Ginny and she nodded once. He sat back in his chair, content to know his wife was going to handle it, and maybe teach their sexist hedonistic son some manners in the process. 

Ginny stood up from the end of the couch and paced in front of the two others in the room. “James, is what they said true? Are you using women for sexual pleasure then dumping them?” 

He turned faintly green, then red. “I’m not shagging them, Mum. I know better. Accidents happen. You’ve told everyone that story: that I was born two years before you were ready to quit Quidditch. So I do try to date but I want to keep it fun. But the others want a boyfriend with all of the fringe benefits but there are some things I just won’t give into. When I won’t budge, they get mad and break up with me. I’m looking for a good time but they want more than I’m willing to offer.” 

“James, you might want to keep quiet.” 

“No, I won’t. I’m tired of Mum treating me like a bloody toddler. I know better than treating women wrong.” James looked at his dad, trying to ignore his mum but he wasn’t getting any support from Harry. “They want more than what I’m willing to do. I’m looking for a good snog and they are expecting sex. I don’t want that.” He blushed hard. “I’ve not had sex but I’ve had some fun. The rumors keep the guys off my back but my reputation for a lothario is enough that the girls want to shag me so when I’m out of Hogwarts and training for Quidditch, they can follow along as a Quidditch groupie. They’ve told me that and often.” 

“And I know you. You’ve conveniently left much out of what you’re talking about. I know from Neville that you’ve had plenty of detentions with him, for being caught in various broom closets and elsewhere with these various people, in compromising positions.” Ginny wrapped her arms around her stomach, fighting a wave of nausea. “So don’t take me for falling off the turnip truck an hour ago. I know you think I’m old and stupid, but I spent some time in quite a few broom cupboards. I know what can happen in there.” 

James ducked his head and refused to look at his Mum, muttering about _not understanding_.

“And I understand so much more than you do. Do you honestly think that your first contract with a Quidditch team will be so large that you’re tripping on galleons, so much that you’re throwing them around without a care, with women hanging on you?” 

James nodded. 

“You presume that birds will sink a beak in you for being a professional Quidditch player? You think that there will be gaggles of groupies following you, hoping for a groupie’s life, following you to all of the matches, partying all hours of the night and living large off your galleons?” 

James nodded. 

Ginny laughed harshly. “You’re not that good, not compared to me. But you can be, but not with your current attitude. Your laziness will keep you on practice squads as a training bludger.” 

James turned bright red. “You said it was the best years before you married Dad. And you said how much fun Quidditch was when you flew.” 

“James, shut your gob.” Ginny turned on her oldest son, freezing him in the chair by the fire. “I’m going to say this once and you better listen, as well as taking it to heart.” Ginny pulled her wand from the holster on her arm and handed it over to Harry. She sat down across from James and gave him a stern look. 

“I’m ashamed of you. You were raised better, to treat women better, and here I hear that you are using women for sex then throwing them aside?” 

“Well, yeah. It’s not like I’m making them. I flirt with the girls, maybe snog or two, and they are throwing their knickers at me. Would you turn that down, Dad?” 

Harry groaned. “Ever since I got with your Mum, I have, countless times, including a few wizards. No one holds a candle to your Mum. I think the child growing in her belly proves how barmy I am for her.” Harry looked at Ginny and smiled. 

“I love you too, Harry.” 

“But I’m not like you, Dad. I want to have my fun and live some before I settle down.” 

Ginny bristled at being talked over. “You want to go live with your grandparents for the next few months, doing chores sunup to sundown?” James shook his head frantically. “You sure? Mum’ll straighten you up forthwith.” 

“I’m sure.” He hung his head despondently. 

“Then you will quit your antics now. You will treat women better from here on out. Otherwise I’ll put my size 5 trainer print on your ass.” Ginny walked to the Floo and grabbed a handful of powder from the wooden cistern. She threw some powder in, yelling _Parkinson Manor_ before sticking her head into the green flames. 

“James, I hope you know you’ve completely cocked things up with your Mum.” 

“Dad, help me out. You had plenty of women before you settled down. Uncle George said so. Charlie told me about a few of your own birds before Mum. I want to have fun like you did before you married Mum.” 

Harry put his head in his hands and groaned further. “You actually believed Uncle Charlie and George’s tall tales about my sexual prowess? Merlin’s beard! I took you for being smarter than that!” 

“Well, yeah. Uncle George said that you had women hanging off of you for years, until you settled down with Mum. She was busy with the Harpies, travelling constantly, so you took advantage of such and lived it up. She did too, way he talked about it.” James refused to look at either of his parents. “Uncle Charlie said that at one time Mum had boyfriends in every city they travelled to.” 

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “Ginny, when you get done talking with Pansy, you have to hear this.” 

Ginny pulled her head out of the grate with ash covering her face. “Almost done, Harry.” She stuck her head back in and continued talking, presumably with Pansy Parkinson. 

“James, they pranked you. I never did any of that mess Uncle George said. They fed you a tale taller than the astronomy tower. Your mother dated much more than I ever did. She dated guys before me, and I gave her the opportunity to date around while she was with the Harpies. I never asked her what happened when she was on the road. When she returned from abroad, we had quite a reunion and she’s somehow only been interested in my silly arse. As for me? I saw her and that was it. I was glad to wait on her. It was only fitting.” 

Ginny pulled her face out of the Floo, gloating. “Pansy now knows what you were intending with Penelope, and so does Penelope. Penelope was rather beastly about being stood up this morning. And she’s chucked you for being a git.” 

“You’ve ruined my last terms at school. Thanks Mum!” James groaned dramatically. “I won’t be able to get a date now.” 

“And for your information, young man, your father has been nothing short of impressively faithful to me since we got together on my 17th birthday.” Ginny dusted herself off before sitting on Harry’s knee, earning another groan from James. “Shall I discuss in nauseating detail about the first time we made love? Or tell you how I taught your father – “

“Merlin, enough!” He buried his head in his hands. 

“And then there’s you,” she hissed, “who treat people, especially women as strumpets, only to suck your cock for a thrill. How many people - girls, guys, and everyone else - have you insisted give you a knob job yet refused to reciprocate?” 

James turned purple. 

“Your behavior makes me sick. So listen to me and listen well.” 

James nodded. 

“The life of a Quidditch player is only glorious when the lights are on and fans in the stadiums. That’s _**if**_ you are on a broom for the match. No one bothers to talk about six hour practices that give you blisters from the hard flying in practice. No one will tell you about the training schedule a month before the first match – and even if you’re the last one on the team, you’re expected to be in International standard conditioning shape. Those hours of running bleachers are horrible, to the point of puking and then still having to make time even with your guts hanging out. 

“I was in the best shape of my life, my first year, and I was on the sidelines ‘til a catastrophic injury to the second Chaser put me on my broom against the Arrows. No one bothers to talk about the players who end their career with an injury. No one talks about the chronic injuries that plague you once you’re off a broom.” 

Harry squeezed her arse and she wiggled. 

“But the hardest is being away from your family for weeks on end. The guys have an easier go of it until the actual season starts then it’s a no-sex ban for months. Imagine not getting even a knob polishing ‘til the Christmas Hols.” 

James gulped. 

“See, unlike the guys, who the idea is to keep them aggressive and edgy, the women are under no such constraints. They are _encouraged_ to rub one out before a match, to take the edge off, so they can focus for the hours up on a broom. Not me, though. I refused and was just as edgy and aggressive as the guys. It might be why I had the most penalties along with highest scoring average my second year.” 

“Ugh, just stop, please. I don’t need to think about that.” 

Ginny sat forward and froze James again with her game face. “So if you want anyone to even consider you for a Reserve team, which I can easily put some words out for a team that you’re a mental case, I’d suggest you buckle down on how you treat people, keeping your gob shut and focus on getting in shape ‘cause if I was anything but humble with Gwenog on the first day of training camp, she’d have run my ass into the pitch from eighty feet. 

“She damn well nearly did anyway.” 

“Yes, Mum.” 

“Do you want me to firecall Gwenog tonight? I’m sure she has a spare conditioning schedule so you can fathom how brutal training camps really are. And that’s the Harpies. Do you think any of the other teams are any easier? One Floo call tonight and your arse will be dragging around the school for a month. And the bludger of it all is, you know I can still perform to standard, unlike you _right now_.”

“Yes, Mum.” 

“Now get your arse upstairs and write an apology to Penelope and Pansy for your wretched behavior.” 

“Yes, Mum.” 

“And you come back down and apologize to me when you are ready. ‘Til then, I don’t want to see you.” 

“Yes, Mum.” James got up from his chair and made his way towards the stairs. 

“James,” Harry barked gruffly. “I’ll be in your room shortly to talk, _Man to man_. Now get to your room.” 

Heavy footfalls crashed on the stairs until a door crash echoed through the residence. 

“I thought Lily would be the worst.” Harry sat back into the couch, resting his head on the back. “Who’d have thought James would be the git this time?” 

“Luna took care of Lily while we were at Percy’s earlier. Lils was fine once Aunt Luna talked with her.” 

“And her problem?” 

“She thinks that we did this purposefully and now she’s not the baby anymore. Luna explained that Mums and Dads have some happy accidents, from time to time. I think that explanation worked well enough with her.” 

“Her too? Al seems to be the only one OK about it all.” Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to fend off the impending headache. “But I know him. He’ll talk with me later, when you’re not around. But since James is our ‘ _baby_ ’ then I sort-of understand why he’s acting like a wanker.” 

“Now that the kids are out of our hair, I want a bath. I might want some wholemeal toast too. All I had at dinner was some ham and potatoes. I’m knackered from the bean in my belly.” 

“Not too knackered, are you? I’ve not had a chance to unwrap my present.” Harry smirked at his beloved. 

“You can unwrap me once the kids are asleep. I might be half asleep but don’t let my snoring stop you.” 

“So? You’ll wake up enough to wake the neighbors if I don’t silence our room.” 

“So reinforce them before you turn in.” Ginny walked over to Harry and snogged him breathless. “Don’t wait too long, love.” 

He watched her arse sashaying away from him and up the stairs. 

He adjusted his trousers before going back to the kitchen for a Firewhiskey and then talking to his kids before bed. 

* * *

Harry quietly crept into their master suite and locked the door. He motioned his wand and the room was silenced, sealed but also could hear the area in front of their door. He didn’t expect to get interrupted tonight, not after talking with Al and Lily and getting into a row with James. 

One candle flickered on his bedside table, enough to show Ginny asleep in the bed. He knew she would be. The early weeks of pregnancy always ground her down, until the 16th week when she turned into her Mum and was a rampaging dragon, in and out of the bedroom. 

Harry sat down in his chair on his side of the bedroom, taking off his trainers and socks that were ripe for 14 hours he was in them. He took off the jumper and button down shirt, leaving on the vest for the moment. He crept into their bathroom, closing the door before turning on the light. He brushed his teeth and tidied up some before bed, but not before evaluating his appearance in the mirror. 

Gone was the small, undernourished child of his youth. He was still there, in the depth of his eyes, and in the memories, but the Aurors trained the rest out of him, leaving him filled out but not bulky. The grey at his temples could be colored and scars on his face covered but Ginny disabused him of that notion at the dinner table. 

The years with her taught him one thing: be the man the boy needed, for others. 

Arthur and the rest of the Weasley men taught him that, too. He was trying to include his sons in that lesson, trying to raise them into fine young men. They weren’t there yet but coming along, with some bumps. He wasn’t perfect but he was determined to get them out on their own, as best as possible. Maybe they’d understand their old man once they were on their own feet. Maybe he’d do better with the little one or ones inside his wife’s belly. 

He stepped out of his denims and pants, and threw them in the hamper. His wife said he could wake her and he would - and then meet up at half nine with the Weasley-Granger household for their Annual Boxing Day activities. 

He crept back into the bedroom and slipped under the warm bedclothes, including the heavyweight quilt made by Fleur. His wife’s body was so warm that it was almost a shame to wake her for a leg over. 

“Took you long enough, Harry,” her gravelly voice broke the silence of the room. 

“The kids took longer than I expected.” 

“You mean James.” There was no question in her statement. 

“We had it out, man to man.” 

“Hope you hexed him,” she rolled onto her back and Harry snuggled in closer to his wife. She might be six inches shorter than him, but she was always his big spoon. 

“No, actually, I didn’t. He’s going to apologize at breakfast for being a twat towards you. He was upset about the broken plans but he also needed to learn how much we went through to have a comfortable lifestyle now, including how hard we had to work to get where we are.” Harry reached up her body to her breasts and gently rubbed them, eliciting a moan from her. 

“So you’re not going to kick him out once he graduates?” Her back arched under his tender ministrations. While he was resting his head on her chest, she threaded her hands into his messy hair and scratched his scalp. 

“I’m not my sodding Uncle. I’ll hold off ‘til I figure he’s earning his own galleons, at Quidditch or something else, he’ll fly the pitch anyway. Hopefully he’ll save some galleons first in his own vault.” He leaned into her welcoming body and kissed the skin of her chest, drifting lower until he could kiss the belly that held his precious child, or children within. 

Ginny shifted and pushed Harry onto his back. She straddled his waist, feeling his excitement on her bum. Her hair hung down over one shoulder, showing her breasts for him along with those fifteen pounds on her hips. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Harry squeezed her breasts once again before putting them protectively over her lower belly. 

“And you’re pretty fit for 41, Potter.” 

Harry’s hands moved over his wife’s body, feeling each curve and dimple in her skin. The gently rubbed her erect nipples in the chilled room before finding the nub inside her slit. “Want me to get you off first before we go half the night?” 

“How about we act like randy teenagers, snogging a while to get me worked up before we go half the night?” She leaned over and he put his hands in her hair, snogging her breathless. 

“I never get tired of that,” she whispered across his face, “just like I’ll never completely tire of you.” 

“Bint.” 

Ginny smiled at their trite banter. “Yes I am and I’m all yours tonight. Now shut up and kiss me.” 

Harry pulled her down for another kiss, getting lost in the joy only his wife could evoke. 

Sometime later, after she’d tested out the silencing charms on their room, she slid back from his face along his chest to his groin and took him inside her, welcoming her husband home.

“I love you,” she whispered to her beloved husband before starting to shag him silly.


	2. A sleeve of Crackers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9 months after events in Christmas Crackers...

* * *

“Mrs. Potter, they’re ready to see you.”

“They can come in.”

Ginny glanced right and saw it was late into the night. Her water broke during dinner. What a mess and only Harry leaping to help kept Lily Luna from having a bit of a fit. 

Ginny adjusted herself in the bed and moved the squirming newborn onto her chest. The youngest Potter – the name of their child still up in the air considering she and Harry still hadn’t made a decision on the name, bickering hours on such – settled into her shoulder, bundled up and settling down to sleep again.

The baby was only a couple hours old but routine settled back in easy enough, after the child was tidied up and Ginny was healed up, some. Muggle or Magical, a mum’s body didn’t rebound that well. It was somewhat fortunate that their other children were old enough that she didn’t have to raise them alongside the new child.

Harry came in first, followed by their sons James and Albus, followed by Luna and Lily Luna. 

“And everyone else?”

“Ron and Hermione will be by tomorrow morning, with Mum and Dad. The others said they’d wait until we were settled in at home before dropping in.”

Luna leaned over and pulled the blanket from the baby’s face and put a delicate kiss on the child’s forehead. “I claim Godmother’s rights,” she said gently before kissing her best friend on the cheek, too. “And blessings for you and the family,” she smiled and a small tear leaked out. “Once again, you amaze me.”

“Well, it’s a wonder you were in town and Harry was able to get ahold of you. Where’s the family?”

“Oh they are at home. When I told Rolf I had to come see you at the Hospital, he was a bit beastly. But once I explained, he was fine.” She smiled and her eyes lost focus. “He will understand a night of me not by his side in bed.” Albus blushed slightly and James laughed. 

“Mum, can I?” Lily Luna had grown in the last nine months without her notice. She had thinned out some, like Harry, but with her hair looking like her namesake grandmother hair and Harry’s myopic eyes, she was the best of both of them. “You should know this since you babysit Astarte enough.”

Ginny sat up and tried to hide the wince but Harry saw her. He put a pillow behind the small of her back and another behind her shoulders. “Thanks,” she smiled at him while watching her older daughter cradling her younger sister.

“Mrs. Potter?” The specialist Healer came in, followed by a very demure and barely noticed Rose Weasley. “Rose!”

“Aunt Ginny,” she smiled brightly. “I asked the Healer to make a stop so I could say hi.”

“We didn’t know you were already in your apprenticeship.”

“I started the week after Hogwarts. St. Mungo’s doesn’t want you to wait, not when you are ready for it.”

“Have you taken your potions, Mrs. Potter?”

Ginny smiled. “The medi-witch was in an hour ago and had me take a large dose of blood replenishing potion along with the nerve regeneration one.”

“Excellent. Make that note, Miss Granger-Weasley.”

Rose pulled the quill to parchment and wrote her notes. 

“Are you in need of anything, Mrs. Potter?”

“Yes, I am. I’m famished. I missed dinner on account of my water breaking and could eat a hippogriff.”

“I’ll see to it, Healer Finley.”

“Excellent.”

“And Rose?”

“Yes Aunt Ginny?”

“We need the cake from home. Would you owl your Mum to bring it in the morning? It’s Harry’s birthday and I don’t want him to miss out on the celebration.”

“Ginny, it’s not important,” Harry started before she cut across him.

“Bollocks, Harry. I promised you that you’d have cake every single birthday since those Muggles who raised you refused. I’ll be arsed if I break it, even if on account of having this bundle of beans the day before your birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Potter. That’s one fantastic birthday present.”

Harry looked upon his expanded family and smiled. His oldest, James, was off to training camp next week for the Ballycastle Bats. His middle son was a prefect and growing into a confident young man with a heart like his old man, and his older daughter, a superb Quidditch player in her own right, at 14.

“You’re looking at 25 years of birthday presents, Healer Finley.”


End file.
